Morning Tea
by Sweet Avidya Jones
Summary: Domestic fluff


Katara was warm and comfortable and the curtains were still blocking out most of the early morning light when she woke. She shifted onto her side, limbs heavy with sleep.

Aang's side of the bed was empty. The door was closed, but she could hear the occasional splash of water from the bathroom. He had been a part of her life for long enough now that she knew his morning routine as well as her own. At this point, he had probably been awake for more than an hour. His morning meditation practice was finished. He would be standing in front of the mirror, shaving.

Kuei offered to give them their own place when he heard they were planning to move out of the communal house. They turned him down as graciously as they could manage. It was hard to decline in the face of his aggressive generosity, and because they knew it would be challenging to find a place they could afford. Between Aang's Council stipend and her income as a healer, they didn't have much money. Katara's earnings could have been much more lucrative, but she was doing a great deal of work with people in the Lower Ring. They still managed to find a small apartment.

Neither of them had any experience with this sort of thing, so it was difficult to confirm their suspicions that the landlady was cutting them a break. She was older and seemed to enjoy having eclectic tenants, because the building housed a wide range of people (a young poet who spent most of her time on the front steps, watching people and scrawling in a notebook, a hunched old man who painted bleak landscapes in the sparse courtyard. Living on the ground level was a man who - they were told - kept more than a dozen birds). It was almost as if she owned the building to meet interesting people rather than as an investment opportunity. They'd met her through Uncle Iroh, whose teashop she was a fixture at. Her building was situated on the edge of the Upper Ring and the apartment itself was comfortable and clean. But perhaps most importantly, it gave them the privacy they had wanted for what felt like forever.

It wasn't just that they were weary of minding their own behavior. At this point, it was hard to predict who would be in the house at any given time, since all of them now traveled so much. Toph was the most consistent resident and she had little modesty to begin with. Her seismic sense also meant even walls weren't an assurance of privacy. Her room in the house was next to theirs, and the evening before they moved out she banged on the wall with her fist the moment things started to get heated between them.

"Hey!" she bellowed, "you two can go a day!"

In retrospect, Katara had to admit her expectations for moving day might have been a bit on the idyllic side. The two of them had been sharing a bed for a couple of years already, and living under the same roof - for the most part - even longer. It shouldn't have been a surprise that the evening was relatively ordinary.

The morning was spent transporting their nominal possessions, then they went to the market for supplies and dry goods for the kitchen. They arrived home just in time to take delivery of their new bed and a table for the living room. Katara took a bath while Aang made dinner, and by the time they'd finished eating they were both exhausted. It was their first night alone together in their apartment, and they only had enough energy to roll into each other's arms and fall asleep.

She got out of bed. On force of habit, she glanced around for her robe before remembering it didn't matter. The door squeaked in its track as she slid it open and stepped into the living room in her underwear. Sunlight streamed in through the windows. There were curtains in the bedroom already ("as a courtesy"), but they hadn't bothered covering the other windows yet. Their unit looked out over the rest of the city, away from the Palace. Being on the top floor besides meant there wasn't really a clear outside view into their apartment, anyway.

The teapot was on the table, steam curling out of it, and she stopped short and stared for a moment. Beside it was a single cup, already full, and she picked it up. Cradling it in both hands, she continued toward the bathroom.

The door was open and she found Aang exactly where she expected to: stooped over the sink in his shorts. He was bending water across his scalp to rinse away the last of the soap on his head. As he straightened, he caught sight of her in the mirror.

"Good morning," she said. He dipped his hands into the basin and smiled.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked. "I thought my chanting was quiet enough."

She shook her head, watching him soap up his jaw and chin. A few trickles of water ran between his fingers and rolled down his forearms.

"You're not usually up this early," he observed.

"I think it's just because it's new. I was wide awake as soon as I opened my eyes."

"Yeah, I was confused for a second, too," he said. He began dragging the razor across his skin. "I'll be over it by tomorrow."

"Nomads," she drawled and he chuckled.

She stepped further into the room and leaned against the door frame. His eyes flashed toward her reflection again, flicking along her bare skin. They snagged on the teacup in her hands and he stopped what he was doing to look her in the eye.

"Is that my tea?" he asked. Her response was an unrepentant smirk and he resumed shaving.

"It's the perfect drinking temperature," she teased as she raised the cup to her lips.

"And by remarkable coincidence, I'm almost done shaving," he replied. His face was tipped away from her so he could see his cheek, but she could still hear the smile in his voice. "It's almost like I did it on purpose."

"I'll share it with you," she said.

His eyes found hers again. She returned his silent smile before looking away. Feeling shy without understanding the reason, she stepped closer to him, hiding from his reflection. The teacup was warm and she held it against her chest as she reached out and stroked his scar her fingertips.

"It's weird," she began. He rinsed his razor, another gentle splash of his hand in the water.

"What?" he prompted when she didn't go on. Katara surveyed the knotted tissue on his back. She withdrew her hand.

"I was thinking about the first time we saw each other again," she said, sighing the words out past her hesitation. She swallowed, "After your fight with Ozai."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a brief halt in the movement of his hands. Aang didn't say anything, letting the moment breathe between them. Katara waited until she heard the subtle rasp of the blade on his skin before she went on.

"I was so relieved it was over. And then you had this amazing story about the Lion Turtle and everything that happened. I should have been happy. Instead, I was just overwhelmed."

"It was an overwhelming day," he agreed.

If anyone else had diminished the end of the war this way, she would have been annoyed. Coming from Aang, it wasn't unexpected. When he recounted those events, he never really talked about himself. Ozai was taken into custody. Sokka's leg was broken. Toph slept away the following day almost entirely. Suki put off her morning calisthenics until the afternoon. He listened in silence during discussions about what Zuko and Katara had been through. Mostly he was quiet. He preferred not to talk about it.

She returned to leaning on the door frame, shoulder against the wood.

"I was nervous," she said. "I knew things were going to change between us. I knew as soon as I saw you were alive."

At last, she looked up at the mirror again. He had set his razor down. There was a confused tilt to his head and soap smeared on his throat.

"You've never told me this," he said, pulling the water up again to rinse his face.

"I never thought there was much point in telling you."

He pulled the plug to drain the sink, then turned and moved closer to her. Her hair was still mussed from sleep and he smoothed a few strands away from her face. The soft smile he was wearing was the same one he often gave before he told her she was beautiful, or that he loved her.

"What's weird?" he asked instead, voice low. A bashful smile curled her lips and she shrugged.

"I don't know, I guess it's just - finding you and how much our lives have changed and everything we've been through - " Her gaze dropped away from his and she laughed, "It's weird we own a teapot together now, isn't it?"

Aang chuckled and cupped her face, leaning to kiss her a couple of times.

"It's very weird," he murmured before he pulled away. She passed him the cup.

"When's your meeting?"

As if simply thinking about Council business was exhausting, he heaved a weary sigh.

"After noon. Are you seeing patients today?"

"Yeah, I should actually get going soon," she said, pushing off of the wall. She made her way back toward the bedroom. Their clothing was still packed and she bent to pick through one of her bags, looking for a specific pair of pants.

"I can fly you down," Aang offered from the doorway, "It'll be faster."

"That would be great."

He crossed the room to sit on the end of the bed. His tea had been left in the sitting room. Katara's search was causing her to delve deeper into her wardrobe than anticipated. She straightened and scowled down at the pile of clothing at her feet, hands on her hips.

"What are you looking for?"

"My gray pants. The long ones."

There was a soft grunt from behind her and she turned as Aang lay back in bed, his feet still on the floor.

"Maybe I thought they were mine and grabbed them. They might have ended up in my bag."

Katara joined him on the bed, one knee sinking into the blankets as she swung her other leg over him to straddle his lap. She sat back on his thighs. Aang yawned and stretched beneath her, curling his fists in toward his head. She could feel the quiver in his muscles as he pointed his toes, hips shifting against her legs. She ran a fingertip along the tautness of his flexed arm before he relaxed again.

"Give me one good reason we should get out of bed," he mumbled, eyes closed. "Let's just stay here for another hour."

This was a tempting offer and Katara groaned, laying her head on his chest. He put his arms around her and she let her eyes drift shut.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to deliver your baby," she drawled, "but Avatar Aang was sleepy."

He chuckled and the vibration was deep in her ear. He ran his fingers through her hair.

"Who said anything about sleeping?" he murmured, dragging his fingertips down her spine.

This was even more promising and she pressed a kiss to his chest, exhaling a resentful sigh through her nose. She pushed herself up to look down at him, his mischievous smile mirrored on her face.

"That sounds excellent," she purred. She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs and kissed him once, then a second time. "But I really do have to go."

He groaned in disappointment when she rose from the bed. Katara bent to pick up her tunic and held it against her chest.

"Are you worried? About what people will think?" she asked.

Sitting up again, Aang frowned. There was a confused crease etched across his brow when she moved closer to stand between his knees.

"About what?"

She pressed her lips together and avoided his eyes, dropping her tunic on the bed beside him. He circled her waist with his arms, pulling her closer. Though she dragged her fingertips across his scalp, along the line of his tattoo, she still didn't meet his gaze.

"You mean us?" he asked, "Living together?"

She gave a mute nod, finally looking at his face. He shook his head.

"No. Why would I be?"

"People will know now, that's all," she murmured. She bent down, pressed a kiss to his head. Her lips brushed his arrow. "That we're sleeping together."

Aang released her, leaned back on his hands with a sigh, cocking his head. He didn't seem terribly surprised about this line of conversation and shrugged.

"People already know. So what?"

"Our friends know, but now everyone is going to." She gestured toward the window and the city sprawled outside it. Her voice rose slightly, "The Council is going to know."

"The Council doesn't care about my personal life. We barely keep up with the issues on our docket as it is." He paused and when she didn't say anything he added, "I'm not ashamed of our relationship, Katara."

"I know you're not. But people talk, you know?"

He did know. Both of them overheard occasional bits of gossip about each other. It was probably one of the things that aggravated them most about living in the public eye. They regarded each other in silence for a moment. At last, Aang sat up and drew her close again. She seated herself on one of his thighs and cast her gaze toward the floor, worrying at the inside of her lower lip. He kissed her bare shoulder.

"You're doing such important work in the Lower Ring. I'm so proud of you."

His words sent a warm rush of satisfaction through her, but she hunched her shoulders a little in embarrassment, her face hot. Being proud of doing such necessary work - work not many people were doing - always felt vain to her. Hearing it from him was gratifying, and it felt allowed. She tucked her hair behind her ear, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"That boy last week could have lost his leg if you weren't there," he reminded her. "And you stopped that assault in the market. I didn't even hear about that from you, it got back to me the same afternoon."

That particular story did not seem to thrill him at the time, even though he knew she was fully capable of protecting herself. If anything, he'd seemed more startled by the speed with which the news got back to him. They had already learned such stories traveled more quickly if they were dramatic, and the extent to which Katara minimized it had not eased his mind. Her eyes cut to the side to glance at him in her periphery. When she saw he was smiling, she tipped her face toward his.

"If someone thinks the most interesting thing about you is the fact that you're sleeping with me, they are completely missing the point," he said.

Katara gave a shy laugh and leaned into his shoulder, putting her arms around him to hold him close and hide her face. His embrace tightened in answer.

"You're sweet," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek, then the lips. "You're making it very difficult for me to leave." Reluctance heavy in her hand, she patted him on the shoulder as she stood. He caught her hand before she could move away and she looked down at him, waiting.

"I love you," he said, low and soft.

"I love you, too," she replied.

In less than an hour, she would be walking into the clinic, her bag of supplies at her hip. She would be focused on her work. Children with runny noses, some of them with exhausted, hugely pregnant mothers or grandparents with wounds that were stubborn to heal. But now, he watched her in silence while she wrapped her bindings.

She moved through their bedroom, just the two of them in the solitude and quiet, the warmth of his eyes on her.


End file.
